


We Belong Together

by rvspberry (lostnoise)



Category: Bill & Ted (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bad Parenting, Captain Logan is a Bad Dad, Catboy Ted “Theodore” Logan, Catboys & Catgirls, Class Differences, Collars, Discrimination, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jealousy, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Ownership, Rating May Change, Self-Esteem Issues, Ted is Clueless, Whump, bill is sweet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:21:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29332992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostnoise/pseuds/rvspberry
Summary: Ted realizes, living with Bill, just how many rules his dad had because Bill doesn’t seem to have any at all.Every day, he comes home and catches himself breaking one of his father’s rules, and every day he waits with his breath caught fearfully in his chest for Bill to snap at him about leaving a dish in the sink, or forgetting to put his collar on after he showers, or not making his bed before he leaves for work. But Bill doesn’t say anything about any of the things Ted would have been reamed out over by his dad. And Ted becomes nervous, because he doesn’t know what to expect.With his dad, at least Ted knew most of the time what would piss him off so he could avoid it. With Bill, Ted feels his nerves creeping up further and further to choke him with the uncertainty.
Relationships: Ted "Theodore" Logan/Bill S. Preston Esq.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 29





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting in my docs since January 24th, apparently, and I’ve been kicking around Catboy Ted headcanons with Heck for much longer than that.
> 
> A little primer for this catpeople universe:
> 
> There are people who appear as normal humans, and then there catpeople who have ears and tails. Catpeople are treated differently and discriminated against; they are expected to wear collars, and up until the age of 18, catpeople have to have a legal owner. At 18, parental owner rights cease unless a new application is submitted and signed by both parties. Having an owner does give catpeople more opportunities, but those opportunities must be approved by an owner (IE: drivers licenses, car owning, etc).
> 
> I think that covers the basics - it’s fleshed out more over the upcoming chapters, but I thought the little primer might be helpful for people unfamiliar with catpeople conventions.

Moving in with Bill is probably the best thing to ever happen to Ted. They find the cheapest place they can stand without bugs or obvious spots of mold growing on the bathroom ceiling, where Ted can’t hear any mice in the ceiling and therefore won’t be distracted all night when they’re trying to sleep.

What really makes it the best is that it’s a place of their own. Bill hangs up photos and posters, starts layering stickers and band flyers on the walls, encourages Ted to start drawing and painting however he wants.

It’s the first time Ted’s tried something like this since he was six and his mom caught him coloring the nursery walls for little Deacon still in his mom’s tummy.

He’d drawn their little family as stick figures, him and his mom and Deacon with cat ears and tails, his dad with his police hat, and their little house with the tree in the front yard. She helped him paint over it after, grinning all the while, and then gave him paper to put his crayons on instead. His dad took the photo down from the fridge when he came home the day they found out Deacon wouldn’t have ears.

(Ted tried to hang a photo of his mom and himself in his room after she died, but Ted’s dad threw a fit about holes in the wall and clean walls and Ted never tried to do it again.)

Ted realizes, living with Bill, just how many rules his dad had because Bill doesn’t seem to have any at all.

Every day, he comes home and catches himself breaking one of his father’s rules, and every day he waits with his breath caught fearfully in his chest for Bill to snap at him about leaving a dish in the sink, or forgetting to put his collar on after he showers, or not making his bed before he leaves for work. But Bill doesn’t say anything about any of the things Ted would have been reamed out over by his dad. And Ted becomes nervous, because he doesn’t know what to expect.

With his dad, at least Ted knew most of the time what would piss him off so he could avoid it. With Bill, Ted feels his nerves creeping up further and further to choke him with the uncertainty.

What if he did something Bill didn’t like? What if Bill realizes how much of an annoyance it is to live with a catperson? What if Bill decides he doesn’t want to be Ted’s best friend anymore because of them living together?

Ted thinks that would devastate him.

So, he starts being _extra_ good.

Ted does the dishes every day, even when the dishes aren’t his. He makes both of their beds. He cleans up the dirty laundry in their room, and the chip bags and candy wrappers off the floor and table surfaces. He cleans out the fridge of all the spoiled takeout containers. He even vacuums, one day, as Bill comes home.

He feels a little like he’s walking on eggshells as he waits for Bill to find something he doesn’t like. Waits for Bill to yell at him the way his dad always does.

Waits for Bill to hate him the way his dad does.

What happens instead is Ted comes home to find Bill cleaning the apartment, and his stomach sinks down between his ankles. His entire body goes cold with fear and then hot with shame. He stands in the doorway watching Bill vacuum and can’t help but think that Bill must have gotten tired of how poorly Ted cleans so he had to take it into his own hands.

Ted stands there in the doorway, fingers curled around the frame, heart beating a tattoo against his sternum from how hard and fast it trips over itself. His claws pop out a bit, leaving tiny grooves in the chipping paint, and Ted… Ted can’t move. He’s completely frozen.

Why didn’t Bill just tell him what he needed to do better?

When Ted’s dad ended up doing a chore _for_ Ted, it meant that Ted had done such a terrible job that Captain Logan couldn’t trust Ted to do it right. It also usually predicted Ted getting grounded, or losing access to his records or record player, or the one time where Ted had to sleep on the floor because he lost bed privileges for _acting like an animal_.

Bill glances up and does a double take, a wide grin spreading over his mouth when he catches sight of Ted standing there.

“Welcome home, duder!” he calls out happily.

Ted doesn’t want to be lured into a sense of false hope and security, so he doesn’t smile back. Doesn’t move. He can feel his ears pressing low and flat in defensive fear.

“Dude?” Bill’s eyebrows furrow together as he turns off the vacuum and puts his hands on his hips. “Are you okay?”

Ted licks his lips and looks at the apartment. Maybe he should have washed the baseboards, like his dad always insisted he do back home. Maybe he should have organized the fridge better. Maybe he should have let Bill leave his dishes in the sink, or maybe he should have done all the grocery shopping, or—

“Hey, Ted, breathe,” Bill tells him, but his voice sounds floaty and far away. A pair of hands push and pull and direct him over to the couch, and Ted finally takes a deep, shuddering breath and his vision clears of the clouds he found himself amongst. Ted leans his head forward between his knees and tries not to feel completely soothed by the careful hand between his shoulder blades, rubbing and scratching. “Dude, what happened? What’s wrong?”

Ted has to take some slow, deep breaths before he can properly form any sentences, and he hopes that’s not something that carries over to Bill from Ted’s dad. Captain Logan hates waiting for a reply.

“I… dude, if you didn’t like how I cleaned the apartment, couldn’t you just- just show me how you wanted it done?” Ted asks meekly, looking at Bill from beneath the dark fringe in his eyes.

“What do you mean, dude?”

Bill looks confused, which makes Ted confused, too. “Isn’t that why you’re cleaning?”

“Nah, duder, it’s just— you clean all the time. I wanted to do something nice for you, too, since you’re so nice to me and take care of our place so well,” Bill tells him, rubbing a hand through his hair as if that'll stop Ted from noticing that Bill’s cheeks are turning pink. “You do such a good job, and I wanted to help you out.”

Ted blinks widely. “Oh. Whoa, dude. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Bill mumbles and blushes even darker.

Ted’s ears perk back up and he sits up a little taller now that he’s not, like, about to pass out.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” Bill asks him, still rubbing that spot between Ted’s shoulders and trailing his fingers up to the back of Ted’s neck to hold him gently. “You only get like that when your dad yells at you.”

“I thought I was doing something wrong,” Ted tells him glumly as he picks at the hole in the knee of his jeans. “Like, my dad had so many rules in his house and being here is like, the opposite.”

“The only rule here is to be excellent to each other,” Bill tells him, knocking their knees together playfully. It disrupts Ted making the hole any worse, and Ted can’t help but smile. “And to party on, duder.”

Ted laughs then, ducking his head and hiding behind his fringe of hair.

“Seriously, Ted… we can come up with rules if that helps,” Bill offers and reaches up to pet and rub at Ted’s ears and the space atop his head between them. It makes Ted melt into the couch and purr gently. “You tell me what you need and we’ll make it happen.”

“Thanks, Bill,” Ted sighs, slumping to the side to lean against Bill’s body while Bill continues to rub his ears between gentle fingers.

“Anytime, duder. Anytime.”


	2. Chapter 2

Ever since the princesses broke up with Bill and Ted, Ted’s been more content focusing on the band than trying to get a date.

He’s content with Bill by his side, honestly speaking. He doesn’t need anything else.

Working at Pretzels and Cheez at the mall turns out to be hellacious and borderline torture for Ted as a catperson. His ears are always oversensitive, unable to handle the constant chatter of people and the sounds of food cooking and registers ringing up and people laughing and the footfalls on tile and the water splashing in the fountain — it’s too much. But the bonus of working at Pretzels and Cheez is all the bodacious babes that walk through the mall and stop by to get… well, a snack of pretzels and liquid cheese product.

Ted‘s facing one of those overwhelming days, made even more overwhelming by the model-like babe smiling at him from the other side of the counter.

She grabs the pen from next to the register and writes her number on Ted’s arm. Which is unfortunately how Ted misses when his boss tells him to turn off the cheese machine, and cheese starts going everywhere including inside the pretzel fryer.

He’s got the hot girl’s number on his arm when he gets fired.

He bums a quarter from one of his now-ex-coworkers to call their apartment from the pay phone and tells Bill dejectedly that he got fired.

After Bill’s initial dressing down of their manager, who is a most egregious dickweed, Ted will admit, Ted sighs out, “I was manning the register — how was I supposed to know he needed my help with the cheese machine?”

“I’m so sorry, duder,” Bill sighs. “Listen, I’m gonna come pick you up and we’ll go for ice cream, okay?”

Ice cream always makes Ted feel better. Just the prospect brings a smile to Ted’s face.

“Okay! I’ll see you soon, dude.”

When Bill pulls up with the van they’d bought after pooling together their graduation money, Ted’s had enough time to get down on himself again.

Ted’s eighteen, and that means he’s not required to have an owner anymore, but having an owner meant more freedoms for Ted. When his dad was his owner, he refused to let Ted do a lot of things, and it always bummed Ted out. He’d been so excited to turn eighteen because he didn’t have to listen to his dad, but—

But, his dad’s right about some things, Ted thinks. Like the fact that Ted’s definitely not the brightest light bulb in the box. Like, maybe if he hadn’t been born a catboy, things would be easier for him.

Maybe he’d be less distracted and more focused; maybe his dad would treat him the way he treats Deacon. Maybe he’d still have his job. Maybe he’d have his license now. Maybe he wouldn’t have to depend so much on Bill for everything, and as much as Bill assures him that he doesn’t mind, part of Ted wonders if Bill wishes Ted could do more by himself.

Ted slumps in the passenger seat after shutting the door behind him and sighs loudly. He can tell that his ears have folded down against his head, undoubtedly giving away his bad mood.

“Dude, ice cream,” Bill reminds him.

“Do you think I’m a screw up?” Ted asks, looking at his hands folded in his lap instead of at Bill’s face. 

Sometimes, Bill says things with his mouth but Ted can tell by his face that he doesn’t exactly mean them. And he doesn’t think he could stand to see that reflected back at him if Bill says no but doesn’t really mean it.

“No way, duder!” Bill says, and he sounds so surprised and even a little upset that Ted glances over at him with concern. Bill reaches over to him and clasps a hand over Ted’s knee, squeezing gently. “You’re totally not a screw up, Ted. That’s the most non- _non_ -heinous thing you’ve ever asked me.”

Ted chokes out a laugh and rubs his hands over his face, ears twitching.

“You’re my best friend. You’re— you’re just. Just Ted. My Ted.”

Something in Ted’s gut blossoms warm and sweet at those words. He can’t put his finger on why, exactly, the words make him so happy, but Ted just grins over at Bill, and Bill smiles back at him. Smiles that sweet, affectionate smile that always makes Ted feel like— like there’s a sunrise in his chest.

“What’s that?” Bill asks, his brow furrowing as he moves his hand from Ted’s knee to curl around Ted’s wrist. He turns Ted’s hand over, his forearm facing up, and when Ted’s eyes flick down, he sees exactly what Bill’s talking about.

“Oh, yeah,” Ted blinks widely. “The girl who distracted me wrote her number on my arm. Totally bogus, right?”

“Do you, like…” Bill starts and pauses, licking his lips. Ted cocks his head to the side, ears attentive, his tail flicking behind him. “Do you want to call her? Like when we get home?”

Ted blinks again, and his confusion must show on his face because Bill squeezes his arm gently, rubs his thumb over the inside of Ted’s wrist, and then lets go to place his hand on the back of Ted’s neck. That grounds him the way it always does, brings him back from the spiralling disorientation of Bill’s question.

“No, dude, she’s like, way out of my league,” Ted says. He rubs his wrist against his jeans and frowns when it barely smudges the writing.

Bill sucks his thumb into his mouth. Ted’s eyes lock on the way Bill’s lips purse around the digit, blinking stupidly as he can’t find it in himself to look away, and then startles a little when Bill uses his spit-slick thumb to rub at the ink on Ted’s skin. Ted doesn’t startle or pull away. He knows Bill’s just helping him, because he was dumb enough to try to wipe it away dry, but he feels—

He feels taken care of.

And that’s enough to pull a small purr from his chest, one that he catches only _after_ it comes out in a soft rumble.

Ted slaps a hand over his mouth. Bill’s finger stills against his skin. There’s a flush threatening to spread over his cheeks and his nose. He’s so incredibly embarrassed; he usually only purrs when he’s sleepy and Bill’s rubbing the space between his ears, or scratching behind them, or petting the back of his neck.

But Bill curls his fingers around Ted’s wrist and pulls it over to his lap, holding Ted’s hand gently as he licks his thumb again and goes to work scrubbing the ink away as best as he can. It leaves behind a blue smear over his inner forearm, but the number is illegible and Ted can’t help the dopey smile on his face when Bill passes his palm gently over the area.

“There you go, duder,” comes Bill’s gentle voice.

When Ted looks up through his bangs, Bill is smiling just as gently at him.

“Thanks, Bill,” Ted says, squeezing Bill’s fingers where they’re still holding his hand. “You… you take really good care of me.”

Bill’s smile only widens and he ducks his head like _Bill_ is the one who’s shy.

“You’re my best friend,” Bill says softly.

“Your Ted,” Ted repeats from earlier, and his own smile is tentative, growing confident only when Bill grins back and nods.

“You’re my Ted,” Bill affirms. “Oh, dude. That should be our first rule! No more letting chicks write on your arm. Just, like, get a slip of paper or something.”

“Bill, my friend, that’s a most excellent idea!” Ted cheers from the passenger seat.

Bill finally lets go of Ted’s wrist and they exchange a little air guitar. Ted’s bad mood from getting fired undoubtedly will come back later, when he’s in the shower or even later when he’s laying in bed, but for now? For now, he’s just happy being there with Bill.

“Ice cream?” Bill asks from the driver’s seat, and he reaches out idly to pet at the back of Ted’s neck.

Ted lets his eyes fall closed and presses back into the touch. Even lets the gentle, quiet purr vibrate in his throat.

“Ice cream, dude,” Ted nods, smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Currently working on chapter 3 but I wanted to post chapter 2 since I finished it last night and there was an amazing stream on twitch of mmm1na creating a beautiful Catboy Ted napping in the sun while Bill plays guitar. Highly recommend viewing it here:  
> https://twitter.com/minacoleta/status/1359968205540904961?s=21
> 
> You can also come bug me on twitter @rvspberryjonas or (less frequently) on tumblr @rvspberryjvm.
> 
> Let me know what you think about this chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> More to come! You can find me on twitter more often than tumblr, but here are both links if you’d like to come yell at me: 
> 
> https://twitter.com/rvspberryjonas
> 
> http://rvspberryjvm.tumblr.com/


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